Thicker Than Water
by flashwitch
Summary: Hannibal's bleeding out, all over the carpet in an ugly, dank motel room. Face is the only one there, but he doesn't know if he can do what needs to be done. Team as family, friendship fic. Rated T, but there's blood, injury and discussion of issues that some people might say means this should be an M.
1. Chapter 1

**I don't even know, guys. This just sort of happened. Seriously, no clue where it came from. **

**This is set after several years on the run, helping people and stuff. **

**Contains blood, aftermath of violence, health issues, angst, denial. And other fun stuff. **

* * *

_"When the test comes back positive, another test is performed immediately to assure that a false positive did not occur. If the second more specific test comes back positive then the person is most likely infected. If it comes back negative, then, most likely, the first test was a false positive."_

* * *

B.A. and Murdock have the same blood type. This is a very good thing. It's saved both of their lives more than once. Hannibal is the AB Positive. The Universal Recipient. This is also very good.

Face is O Negative. The Universal Donor. This is not good. Not good at all.

"Face, I'm greying out here."

"I know, you need blood." His hands are shaking. He presses down harder on the wound.

"So give me blood." Sounds simple. They've done this before, most often with Murdock and B.A. although Hannibal had needed blood once before as well. Face always treats his own wounds. He won't let the others touch him when he's bleeding.

"I can't, boss." His voice cracks. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I _can't._"

"Lieutenant, we both know I need a transfusion. Stick a damn needle in your arm and get me some blood." Hannibal blinked slowly and when he spoke again it was with real effort. "That's an order, soldier."

And with that, he passed out.

Face brushed his hair out of his eyes with a bloodstained hand.

"Shit, fuck. What am I going to do?" He needed a plan, but the man with the plan was sleeping on the job. His hands slipped in the slick of blood and slid right off Hannibal's shoulder. He grabbed another towel and pressed down as hard as he could. Boss was right. He needed blood or he would die. He couldn't let that happen. He couldn't let the Boss just die quietly in this fucking ugly motel room with its mustard yellow walls and dirty sheets.

But he couldn't have Face's blood. No. No way. No how. He couldn't do that to him. Face's blood had something bad in it. Something Face thought was worse than dying a good clean death by bullet.

He didn't know what to do.

Murdock and B.A. were hours away. They would never get here in time.

He had to do it. Hannibal had ordered him. He had to do it.

First, to stitch closed the wound. He had his kit on him. He sterilised the needle with his lighter, but he wasn't sure why he was bothering. Hannibal was going to get sick no matter what he did. He'd already pulled the bullet out, that's when the bleeding had got real bad. Face reached inside the wound and found the place where the blood was flowing worst. An artery had been nicked. He had to stitch that first. Then the muscle and skin. Arteries were delicate things. The slightest imperfection and they'd give way, unexpectedly. He had to get it right. The blood slowed to a mere trickle.

Hannibal was so pale.

Face stitched up the skin and checked his pulse. Too slow. Not enough blood in his veins. He had to do it, God help him. God help them both. He pulled the tightly coiled length of hollow tubing and unwound it, checking the needles at both ends. All was good. He tied a bit of sheet around his arm just above his elbow and tapped at the veins. They stood up, thick and dark. He inserted one needle into the back of Hannibal's hand, carefully taping it down so it wouldn't get pulled out accidentally.

Then he put the other end into his arm and watched the thick red liquid flow down the tube into Hannibal.

* * *

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, letting his blood go into his Boss. He felt numb. Light-headed. Hannibal was looking more colourful though. that was probably enough. He pulled the needle from Hannibal's hand and immediately went through to the bathroom and threw up. He sat on the tiles, leaning back against the glass of the shower cubicle and stared at the blood on his hands.

That's how Murdock and B.A. found him, eleven hours later; shaking and covered in blood on the bathroom floor.


	2. Chapter 2

**Short chapters are short. **

* * *

Face waited until Hannibal was awake and lucid. He had to do this right. He knew that he was acting strangely. B.A. and Murdock had both commented on it. He ignored them. He had to talk to Hannibal before he could talk to them. They were still in the same crappy motel room, with the mustard walls.

"I shouldn't have given you my blood," he said, looking at his hands.

"You saved my life, kid."

"Wait. Listen. Don't..." Face bit his lip and Hannibal frowned, knowing he wasn't getting it.

"What's going on?"

"My blood. It's bad. I shouldn't have... I'm saying this wrong." He took a deep breath and tried to steady himself. "I... you know I used to be... risky. I'd sleep around. A lot. Girls, yeah. But guys too and everything in between. But I used protection. And I got regularly tested. And one day, I was getting tested and they told me. They said I was... that I was HIV Positive. They started talking about making sure and medications and shit like that, but I couldn't..." he shook his head. He couldn't look at the Colonel. "I couldn't think. The rest of the day was a blur. I went back to the hotel room I was staying in; we'd split up. Laying low. And I got drunk off my face. Since then, I've been so careful, I swear. I haven't let any of you near me or my blood. I know I should have told you, but I thought I could... if I made the risk small enough, then you'd never have to know." He'd said his piece. He knew he'd screwed up. He wasn't going to make excuses.

"When was this?"

"Three years ago." Face hunched in on himself. He waited for an explosion.

"Three years, and you're just telling me now? When were you going to let us know, at you're funeral?"

"No, I... I wanted to tell you. I just couldn't. You need to get tested." He wasn't sure why he'd never said anything. Maybe because of years of DADT. Maybe because he didn't want to seem weak.

"I will. But it's pretty definite I've got it, right?" he sighed and shifted in the bed. "I guess that means a regime of pills for the rest of my life. Kid, you should have told us."

"I know."

"What if you got sick? If we didn't know, we could have gotten you killed! What if you ran out of antiretrovirals?"

"Ran out of what?" Face finally looked up, confused.

"Antiretrovirals? HIV treatments."

"I'm not on any."

"Wait. You've been HIV positive for 3 years and you haven't been on any medication this whole time?"

"Yeah. I didn't stay and listen to the doctor. I figured I'd die in a hail of bullets before it became a problem."

"You stupid..." Hannibal stopped himself and pressed his hand to his shoulder, obviously in pain. "We are both going to a doctor. He's going to test me and we're both going to take whatever pills he deems necessary, understood?"

"Yes sir." Face stood and made to leave. He needed a drink.

"Kid?" Hannibal called after him. "To be clear, I'm not mad at you for saving my life. Even if I knew, I'd have wanted you to give me your blood. More time is more time. I'm mad at you for not trusting us to take care of you."

Face hesitated in the doorway, then nodded, not quite believing it.

* * *

Hannibal didn't tell B.A. and Murdock. He just said that he was going to see a doctor about his arm. They just nodded and carried on with what they were doing, although they both shot Face odd looks. Face knew it was because he was acting strangely, but he couldn't seem to stop. He knew he was pale, and his arms seemed to be stuck wrapped around his chest. It was a defensive posture, he should stop it. If he was on a mission, if he needed to charm someone, he could stop. But his body and his brain were so used to trusting the rest of the team that he acted instinctively, relaxing and letting go around them. Showing them how he really felt.

It was really annoying sometimes.

"Face, come on. I need you to drive me to the clinic in that ridiculous car of yours."

It wasn't Hannibal's best ruse, but he let his guard down around the team too. Face followed him out to the Corvette and started the engine. He felt like he was driving himself to his own execution.


	3. Chapter 3

Face sat on the examination table and looked at his feet. Hannibal was sitting in a chair by the bed, his bad arm in a sling. The doctor had listened to everything and when they'd finished explaining, he'd given Face this weird look. Face wasn't sure he wanted to know what that look meant.

"It'll be okay, kid," Hannibal said. Face didn't bother to respond. The doctor had taken blood from both of them, doubling up on gloves just to be safe, and then he'd left. That was hours ago now. They'd insisted on waiting 'till he got the results back and, because they were fugitives on the run and he had a flexible sense of morality, he'd let them stay.

"How much longer?" Face asked. _How much longer before I'll know if I've killed you?_

"It shouldn't be too long now."

* * *

It wasn't too long. It was just another hour and a half. The doctor came back in carrying a sheet of paper and he had that same strange look on his face.

"Well?" Face asked.

"Lieutenant Peck, you really should have stayed and listened to your first doctor," he said. Face felt all the blood leave his face. He looked at Hannibal who made a noise like he'd been punched.

"Is he dying?" Hannibal was never one to turn away from the hard questions.

"Just the opposite. When your first doctor gave you the results the first time around, one of the things he would have mentioned is doing a second, more specific test."

"I... yeah, I remember something about that."

"We always do both tests because occasionally the initial test comes back as a false positive."

"Wait... are you saying...?"

"Yes. You are not HIV positive." The doctor beamed at them, and Hannibal slowly slumped back in the chair, letting out a long slow breath as though he was deflating.

"What?"

"You do not have HIV. I had my suspicions when you said it had been three years with no symptoms and no medication."

"No... I... test me again."

"I did. Twice."

"I don't have HIV."

"You don't have HIV."

Face jumped up and kissed the doctor on the mouth. He was rather taken aback, but still smilling, and Hannibal laughed out loud.

"Wait, what about the Boss, he's okay too, right?"

"He's fine. You did a good job with his shoulder too."

Face kissed him again. He didn't know what to do with himself. He had his whole life back in front of him.

"Wait," Hannibal said. "What could have caused the false positive in the first place?"

"There are a few things. Tuberculosis, Malaria, Rheumatoid Arthritis."

"I've never had any of those."

"Did you have a flu shot not long before the test?"

"Yeah..." Comprehension dawned on Templeton's face. "Murdock had been sick as a dog, and the Boss had insisted..."

"Well then. That's most likely it." He handed the sheet with the results on to Face. "Congratulations."

"I spent three years thinking I had a death sentence because of a flu shot?" He sat back down on the exam table heavily.

"Funny, isn't it? Now, you've taken up my exam room for far too long already. Run along. And in future, listen to a doctor when he's trying to tell you something."

Face grinned and nodded. He stood up again, and his legs gave way. Hannibal caught him, one handed, and the doctor was on his other side, propping him up.

"Easy, kid." Hannibal waited until Face had firmed up and then slowly let go. "Come on, let's go tell the others the good news."

"You go tell them. I could use some space," he smiled and rubbed the back of his neck. "It's a lot to take in." Hannibal frowned, and for a second Face thought he was going to say no. But then he nodded slowly.

"Be careful, kid. I'll see you back at the motel in a few hours?"

"Sure." Face nodded, but he wasn't sure when he'd get back to the ugly yellow motel room. He needed a drink. He needed seven drinks. More than that, he hadn't got laid in three years. He was going to find some nice guy or girl and have his way with them.

So long as they were clean, anyway.

* * *

**That's it. Still not sure where this one came from. :/**

**All information on HIV and HIV testing is true as far as I know. **

**The quote at the beginning came from this website: www . ehow about_5045612_causes-false-positive-hiv-test .html**

**Face's Corvette, and B.A. and Murdock having the same blood type came from the original TV show. **


End file.
